


A Meowy Christmas

by MFLuder



Category: Original Work
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, First Kiss, Holidays, Pets, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/pseuds/MFLuder
Summary: Janelle, a small accounts manager who volunteers at her local animal rescue, meets a new volunteer who has a certain way with cats. Sparks fly, especially when they find a kitten in need.
Relationships: Cat Goddess/Woman Who Cares For Stray Cats (F/F)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 9
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	A Meowy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



> How could I resist the pun?
> 
> Alright, DesertVixen, I really hope you end up liking this because I struggled with the requested pairing and then the note that you're more into gen and/or het. I hope that overall, it fulfills a little bit of pets finding homes and Christmas spirit.
> 
> Thanks to my beta who will be properly credited later!

Janelle takes her coat from the coat rack placed near her office and swings it on. She looks down and picks off a piece of cat hair; the effort is fruitless. There’s a million more stuck in the threads, Marmalade’s orange ones standing out the most on the grey fabric. She shrugs and grabs her purse.

As she passes through the darkened hallway, she pauses at the only other office door still lit.

“Hey, John. I hope you’re not planning on staying all night again.”

The white-haired man rubs a big hand across his face before looking up at her. “That time again, huh?”

Janelle laughs. “Well past. You and I are the only ones left. I think the last client went home almost an hour ago.”

“Mmm,” John hums. He’s got the look of a man who has seen better years, but he’s still the best boss she’s ever had. John always has a warm smile – and a Christmas bonus check for all his employees, from accounts managers like herself to the college-aged tellers. “And what is my favorite employee off to do tonight? It’s only two weeks until Christmas, after all.”

She groans, pretending to thunk her head against the doorframe. It’d be protected by her thick hair, even if she did. “Don’t remind me. I’ve still got a few gifts to find. Fortunately, I’m headed to the mall, anyway. Paws for Pets is doing an adoption drive. I’ve got the last shift of the night.”

John chuckles and stands, beginning to gather his briefcase as he responds. “Just don’t get talked into bringing another one home, yourself. I think you’ve already got a full house.”

“So my sister keeps reminding me.”

“At least it makes whoever gets you in the Secret Santa have an easy time. Now, you’d better go. I promise, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Alright. Good night, John!” Janelle calls out as she buttons up her coat on the way out of the small bank building. When she steps outside, it’s to the crisp smell of fresh snow and a light flurry coming down. The flakes catch in the bank’s holiday lights, casting a glow in the air. It’s a perfect December night.

By the time she arrives at the mall, she has a list of who she needs to find gifts for still. Mostly, she’s planning on popping into the big box bookstore; she prefers to shop small and local, but they carry the fancy gel pens her niece likes so much.

She enters the mall at the north entrance. Recently remodeled, the marble floors gleam and compliment the grand foyer filled with tall, cone-shaped tinsel trees in all colors, with giant lights that look like sparkling snowflakes hanging off of the second-floor promenade. A burst of loud caroling greets her ears as she walks in further, and she smiles and nods at the singers as she passes, on her way to one of the smaller quads in the mall where the adoption tables are set up.

Any other time of the year, Janelle studiously avoids the mall. But during December, even though there’s more traffic and Santas ringing bells everywhere, the decorations and warm scents of pretzels combined with cinnamon from the candle stores make her nostalgic and she doesn’t mind it so much. Besides, getting to watch little kids as they spot the kittens and other animals is a lot of fun.

She’s huffing a bit when she gets to the table, apologizing to Sarah for being late. Sarah, the owner of Paws for Pets, simply smiles and hushes her.

“It’s alright, honey,” she says, her soft southern accent sweet on the ears and so different from everyone else’s Midwestern long o’s and a’s. “I knew you’d make it. I need to go pick up the boys, but I want to introduce you to our newest volunteer.”

It’s then that Janelle looks up and catches the wideset brown eyes of one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen. They shine golden out of her darker skin, accentuating her high cheekbones, rounded face, and pointed nose. Her dark brown hair flows around her in big curls.

 _She could be a supermodel_ , Janelle thinks, feeling stunned and at a loss for words.

“Sarah has told me so much about you, Janelle; it’s nice to work with you. My name is Marie Baast.” The woman – Marie – has a thick lilting accent that makes her name sound more like Mary, with a hard ‘e’ sound.

Janelle melts.

Then, blinking, she realizes both women are staring at her. She feels a blush creep up her neck.

“Um, hi. It’s so lovely to meet you. I can’t imagine anything Sarah had to tell you was particularly exciting, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“On the contrary,” Marie says, holding out her thin hand for Janelle to shake. She feels like a fumbling teenager, hoping her palms aren’t sweaty. Marie towers over her and Janelle can’t recall the last time someone’s looks had her turned on so fast. “I’ve been told you like animals as much as I do – particularly cats. I’m very,” the woman pauses, “ _fond_ of them.” As if to show that’s the case, Marie puts her fingers through the bars of the cage that belongs to a cat they call Groucho – an old man who is generally very cranky and whose markings make him appear to have a thick mustache under his nose. Groucho blinks blurry eyes at Marie and then licks her fingers.

Sarah places her hand on her heart like she’s startled. “Janelle. Groucho _likes_ her. I’ve never seen him take that well to anyone but you.” 

Janelle laughs. “Well, maybe now I won’t be the only one who has to put up with his yowling at bath time.”

Marie chucks Groucho under the chin and then teases him with her fingers, keeping them tantalizingly out of the way of his sharp teeth.

“Well. Ladies, it’s been a pleasure, but that damn daycare will charge me another fee if I’m late again to pick up the twins. Janelle, I trust you’ll get everything back to the shelter tonight?”

“Of course!” Janelle says, eyeing two kids who look like they might start poking Harvard, their tortoise.

“I will help,” Marie says, “if that is fine. I have no plans tonight.”

Janelle laughs nervously. “Sure. But you don’t have to.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Marie practically purrs, pressing one of her fine-boned hands on Janelle’s pudgy forearm.

Janelle is so flabbergasted; she barely acknowledges Sara leaving with her usual “Ta-ta now!”

Their evening passes quickly and pleasantly, Marie as good with the little kids as she is with the animals. By the time the mall closes, they have secured two adoptions and scheduled an interview for the next day for someone to see about adopting Harvard. In between, Marie speaks of a whirlwind move from to the US from Egypt, but mostly asks after Janelle who, struggling with filters, finds herself practically giving away her life story out of nerves. 

Despite Janelle’s awkward gestures and stumbling over her words, Marie never looks bored. She also is never more than two feet away. She radiates warmth and a sense of satisfaction, not unlike a cat. At one point, when Janelle is trying to get one of their young kittens from his kennel – recently rescued by herself from one of the small roads in her neighborhood – Marie simply wrapped her long arms around Janelle’s body, bending down and lifting the black kitten into Janelle’s arms. She smells of anise and cloves. Janelle is tempted to ask what perfume she wears but doubts it would smell as natural on her. She looks up to say something and meets Marie’s eyes as the kitten mewls in her arms. Electricity fizzles in her veins and she feels the urge to press her legs together – until the young college-aged woman waiting to hold the kitten discreetly coughs.

Fortunately, a little boy comes up then, excited to see the puppies, and Marie moves away to help him. The girl, happily petting the purring kitten, winks at her.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, snapping her gum.

“Oh, gosh, no,” Janelle responds, once more feeling a blush cover her face.

“Why not?” the girl asks, tilting her head. Janelle notices a small tattoo hidden behind her left ear. She has an oversized jean jacket on, with a plaid flannel tied around her waist. 

“I mean…I only just met her,” Janelle whispers. “Besides, someone like her, well, they wouldn’t go for me.”

The girl rolls her eyes, bringing the kitten up to her face. He dangles, letting her kiss his whiskers. “For having just met, you two have some serious chemistry. I say go for it.” She hands the cat back. “Thanks. I wish I could adopt him, but my roommate’s allergic. Maybe next year.” She winks once more and walks off into the crowd, hands in the pockets of her leggings.

At the end of the night, Janelle accepts Marie’s assistance in putting all the remaining pets into her SUV and driving across town to the shelter. Marie keeps Groucho on her lap the whole ride. Janelle finds it oddly endearing and even more, strangely safe. There is something about the tall woman that exudes such love and patience and care for the animals that Janelle doesn’t doubt her ability to keep them safe.

“You’re really good with them,” she says quietly when Marie finally places Groucho into his kennel, the last of the animals to get settled in.

Marie smiles at her, her honeyed eyes twinkling in the low lights. “I call it…a natural talent. Cats have loved me all my life; and I, them.”

“Well, all I can say is, Paws is very lucky to have you as a volunteer. I’m sure if you stick around, we’ll find even more homes for the pets!”

Marie leans into Janelle’s space, looking down at her. Her scent is thick in Janelle’s nose, making her mouth practically water. “Who can say where the wind will take me.” She grabs something from behind Janelle and then stands up straight again. In her palm are a set of keys with a cute pink cat keychain dangling. Her long eyelashes flutter with a blink. “But I hope to stay and make this Christmas good for Paws. Whatever I can do – people like you deserve it, Janelle.”

Janelle practically swoons, then shakes her head, trying to get the idea of Marie flirting with her out of her head.

Janelle surprises herself by blurting out “Would you like to get dinner?” She stands back and places her hands over her mouth in horror. She begins to step around Marie, desperate to get out of the shelter and run home to escape the embarrassment, but the other woman places her hand on Janelle’s arm, long fingernails digging in just enough to stop her. She turns around but doesn’t look up, about to blabber an apology.

“I’d love to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t, I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date or—” She stops herself. “Wait.”

“I’d like, very much, to go on a date with you.”

Janelle looks up in awe. “Wait, you’re gay? I wouldn’t actually…it just kind of came out.”

Marie pulls her in by the hand still digging into Janelle’s arm. “Suffice to say, I find you appealing. You are beautiful, Janelle, inside and out. It would be my honor to dine with you.”

Still flushing, though now only partly due to embarrassment, Janelle pulls out her phone. They exchange numbers and then she climbs into her vehicle and awkwardly waves off Marie in her shiny luxury sedan before letting her head drop and hit the steering wheel. It hurts, but all she does is press one of the preprogrammed numbers on the dashboard.

_“Janelle?”_

“Hey, sis.”

 _“What’s wrong?”_ Her sister’s voice is instantly worried.

“I have…a date?” Janelle still manages to question.

There’s an eardrum-shattering scream that ricochets through the car speakers. Janelle winces. _“That’s great! Why do you sound upset? What happened this time?”_

“Nothing happened. I mean, I’m happy. I just…can’t believe it?”

_“Can’t believe someone would like you? Janelle – you’re not homely. And you’re an incredibly kind, giving person. Just because you came out later in life doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of dating or being loved. Now, tell me all about her.”_

Thirty minutes later, Janelle is home and feeling better. She goes to bed that night, after feeding her three cats and cuddling up with Snickers, the neediest of them, with thoughts of what Marie would be like to kiss. Her full lips, Janelle having to stretch up on her toes or Marie reaching down, one hand threaded through her hair…

~~~

One dinner turns into two, turns into three, turns into working at Paws on the weekend when Janelle doesn’t have to work at the bank. They go out for lunch and then return to the shelter, all under Sarah’s watchful gaze – and her consistent texts.

_Are you two dating?  
Have you kissed?  
Have you, YOU KNOW?  
Please tell me you’ve kissed her, at least?!?!_

And then just a string of emojis that Janelle is not equipped to understand aside from the lips.

She sighs at herself. Honestly, she’s been hoping Marie would make a move – any move. Every time they’ve met up since Janelle’s first blurted ask has been Marie’s idea, but the biggest struggle Janelle has is knowing when a woman is interested or _just a friend_.

Marie’s next date idea is to go ice skating. The city is hosting a small outdoor rink – a real one since this _is_ the Midwest – decorated with a big tree and lit by ten thousand Christmas lights. Or so the website claims.

When they arrive, Janelle’s heart thumps in her chest at the image Marie makes. She’s svelte in a pair of black leggings and a deep purple athletic jacket that compliments the golden tones underlying her hair. The jacket is unzipped just enough so that Janelle can see the gold chain necklace Marie always wears: a small cat charm along with a metal bar with one word on it that Marie tells her is Arabic for cat. She said it was given to her as a blessing.

In contrast, Janelle feels frumpy in a navy blue and white Nordic sweater and jeans, bundled down in a scarf, hat, and mittens, too. She’s regretting not wearing her thermal underneath her jeans too, the wind a brisk cold from the west.

Still, she can’t actually regret anything when she sees the spectacle of the lights and the tree illuminated behind the most beautiful woman in the world. The rink is playing Christmas music, currently that famous Mariah Carey one. 

“Janelle!” Marie calls out warmly, walking over, even taller on skates. “Quick. Get your skates on and I’ll grab us hot chocolate.”

Janelle blinks at her, shoving her hands in her pockets. “No one’s ever bought me hot chocolate before.”

“Well, I’m afraid this probably won’t be as good as when I make it at home,” Marie says, a twinkle in her eye that competes with those on the tree, “but the proceeds at least go to a small group of young women entrepreneurs.”

Janelle pauses, then peers over to the other side of the rink. “Oh! The Girl Scouts. That’s probably the local troop trying to raise money for a project.”

“As I said: entrepreneurs.” Marie smiles, her white teeth gleaming. Janelle adores that; if the woman could be said to have a flaw, it would be her longer canine teeth – which frankly, she simply finds adorable, rather than anything that detracts from Marie’s good looks.

Marie pushes back a stray curl from Janelle’s face, and she feels her heart stutter and then stop, looking up into those golden eyes that seem almost to glow green in the winter twilight, her pupils slitted. Then Marie pulls away and gets onto the ice and Janelle’s heart begins beating once more. She ducks her head down, doing her best to ignore the wide-eyed stare of a girl probably no more than five and ties her skates.

The next hour passes along in companionable chatter, with only one moment where Janelle nearly dies, when Marie grabs her hand as Janelle almost falls. Marie’s laugh is light and sweet, and she coaxes Janelle along in Arabic, something she doesn’t understand, but comprehends the meaning of when Marie turns to face her and skates along backward, both hands grasping hers.

After, they wander through the small art park the city has set up, filled with ice houses, ice sculptures, and various large Christmas-themed art pieces that kids can run through. At one point, Janelle stops, watching Marie eye an ice cat design, and bites her lip. She’s so busy staring, she doesn’t hear the snap of a photograph until it is too late. A local reporter gives her a wave and Janelle is about to call after the man when Marie stops her with her graceful hand, tapping her shoulder and then nose, an intimate, soft smile on her pink lips. 

“Don’t. You looked beautiful. Your blue hat and pink cheeks make a lovely image, Janelle.”

Janelle flushes, turning her head away and Marie’s pointer finger grazes her lip. She opens her mouth to say something when a quiet meow interrupts them.

“Hello, sweet thing,” Janelle says, instead of the babble she would otherwise have spouted. At her feet is a shivering grey tabby who looks up at her morosely, raising one paw in the air to half-heartedly bat at her shin, letting out another pitiful mewl.

She bends down to pick the kitten up and it practically leaps into her arms. Janelle lets out a little surprised “Oh,” laughing as the cat tries to wiggle underneath the scarf and collar of her sweater, stretching it out. “Where did you come from?”

Janelle looks around and doesn’t see anyone but her and Marie. The laughter of children and those still at the ice rink as it grows later seems far off – too far for the cat to belong to it.

“Perhaps Paws will have a new visitor?” Marie says, holding out her hand for the tabby to sniff. The cat begins to lick Marie’s hand and purr, burrowing deeper into Janelle’s arms.

She shakes her head. “Too clean and well-fed. Has to be someone’s pet. Hopefully, not too far from here.” She looks around and notes the luxury downtown apartments that surround the city center where the ice rink and park are set up. “Maybe over there?”

“Hmm. She might have slipped from someone’s balcony,” Marie agrees.

With an exchange of glances, the two begin walking further from the city center and towards the nearest apartment buildings. The kitten lifts its head and purrs louder, butting Janelle under the chin. 

Large snowflakes begin to fall, giving the air a mist-like quality, somehow more magical and yet, more desperate. They could definitely take the kitten into Paws, see if she’s microchipped in the morning, or if anyone calls around, but it’s a big city for a little kitten. Janelle would rather they find its owner tonight. The sky begins to darken, as they walk, the last bit of grey light fading into cloudy black, and the temperature drops. 

Janelle hears a small, frantic voice. “Izzy? Izzy!”

They make it to the driveway of the apartment building – currently covered in festivity with garlands and lights on its valet entrance – when they see a small boy crying out frantically, tears streaming down his face. Behind him is a harried-looking woman and a disgruntled building attendant.

The boy sees Janelle, and the kitten pops her head over Janelle’s sweater-thick arm.

“Izzy!” This time the tone is delighted and tear-free. He runs over, shoulder length blond hair flopping.

“Oh, thank god,” the woman – presumably his mother – says behind him.

Janelle squats down and lets the boy take the kitten from her. “Izzy is her name?”

He sniffles, wiping his nose on his own shoulder. “Izabel.”

“That’s a unique name for a kitty.”

His mother, who finally reaches them, places one hand on his shoulder and the other begins to pet the boy’s hair. “It’s one of his favorite book characters. We only got her yesterday and haven’t gotten a name tag yet. She just escaped from his arms,” she explains.

Janelle nods. She turns to the boy. “Izzy had quite an adventure. We found her all the way in the park. You’ll have to ask her about it; have her tell you a bedtime story.”

He giggles. “Cats can’t talk!”

“No?” she says, looking at him very serious. “Then how do you think we found you? She told us she belonged here, to a little boy.”

His blue eyes grow wide. “She did?” he asks in whispered excitement.

She nods again.

“Perhaps the cat goddess was looking out for her,” Marie says, her accent making her embellishment sound all the truer, in a mysterious fashion.

“Or just some very kind humans,” the boy’s mom says. “Let’s get Izzy inside, honey. I bet she’s hungry.” She turns him away, back into the building, the attendant holding the door open for them. “Thank you so very much. He’d have been devastated. Merry Christmas!” she calls back over her shoulder.

The attendant tips his hat and closes the door behind him. It isn’t unkind, but it does take away the warmth from inside, leaving them in the chill of the snowy night.

“Well, I suppose we should get back,” Janelle chirps, wincing when her voice comes out too high.

A warm hand on her cheek stops her. “Janelle,” Marie says, quiet. “You did a very good thing tonight. Like you do every day. You treat cats like they were people. The other animals, too, of course. But I see cats have a special place in your heart – and you have a special place in mine.”

Janelle tries not to pass out right then and there, her whole-body tingling with the praise. “Marie—" she starts, but Marie cuts her off by pointing up, a smile on her lips, eyes gleaming in the white lights that surrounded them. 

Above them, a piece of mistletoe hangs, clear of all the other decorations. Janelle gasps and a shiver runs through her. When she turns her gaze back on Marie, she feels a warmth begin to heat her very bones as Marie reaches down, sliding off Janelle’s hat and tangling her fingers into her hair.

The press of lips is light at first, barely a hint of feeling, breath lingering between them. Janelle hears herself let out a noise of plaintive desire, and then Marie is leaning down into her, full force, lips a hard press now, adding little kitten licks to coax Janelle into opening her mouth.  
Once she does, the warmth gathers and pools in her stomach. Her hands come up to grasp the taller woman’s hips, to keep her close, to bring them closer together. Her skin is alight with the feeling of Marie’s hands on her, their gentle caress as she tilts her head and switches the angle, licking deeper into Janelle’s mouth, asking for more, biting at her bottom lip with her sharp teeth.

“May I?” Marie questions, and Janelle has no idea what she is asking consent for, but has no problems giving it anyway, nodding a yes into the kiss. Marie’s free hand slides down then, along the outside of Janelle’s sweater, sending shivers down her spine from its warmth and the notion that it is much too cold outside now to be without a coat. Then it grazes back up to her ass, giving it a light squeeze, before settling under her sweater, at her waist. Janelle feels like Frosty, melting in the hot sun, as intricate patterns are teased into her skin. 

It’s better than she imagined.

“Come home with me?” Marie asks, her voice soft, lower in pitch. Janelle would swear her eyes look just like a cat’s as she gazes into them. “I’ll make you my cocoa. Maybe other things.”

And for once, Janelle’s mouth cooperates with her brain and she whispers “Yes,” into Marie’s mouth before going up on her tiptoes, hand over Marie’s heart, and leans into another kiss.

“Eid milad saeid, harira.”

Janelle tells her sister the next morning, luxuriating in a soft bed with Marie snoozing next to her like a cat, that she heard a purr underlying the words.

**Author's Note:**

> Eid milad saeid, harira: Merry Christmas, kitten
> 
> Arabic has been used via google translate, so if you speak Arabic and would like to leave a correction on that, I welcome it!
> 
> Cat goddess headcanon: She is drawn to people who truly care for cats, and stays with them for whatever they need - romantic or platonic. Sometimes it's one night, sometimes a few weeks, and sometimes, she herself falls in love and stays. When this happens, she is reincarnated and it begins over again, but those loves are never forgotten.


End file.
